r o n b u n
by KBZ
Summary: AU: Set aside from the rest of the world, there is an organization that has lost sight of their purpose. It's children who must deal with the repercussions.
1. Abstract

/signal weak, connect anyway? {command: yes} connecting to database 0009754... connecting... connecting... connecting... CONNECTED;accessing... accessing... ACCESSED/  
/Title: Abstract  
/Author: [DELETED]  
/Last Edited: March 09, [DELETED]  
/Contributors: [DELETED], [DELETED], [DELETED], [DELETED]/  
/opening text;;/

How many philosophers have pondered what it means be human? This ideal is ingrained, is all but branded, on the human psyche. As a whole, we wish to find our uniqueness and pinpoint just exactly what separates us from common beats of burden, from parasitic cells, from particles of light. In fact, this question has never been satisfyingly answered despite our undying curiosity. Now, this research experiment is not set out answer this question, no; but, springing from a happy coincidence, we may acquire a fuller understanding of the essence that brings from only humanity. Indeed, we may gather clues to help dig an answer out of the dark abyss humanity is continually drowning in.

Our research experiment has been constructed to answer an altogether New question. A question that only modern advances has birthed. And that question is:

Are humans inferior to their creations?

Seemingly over night, really over the last decade, countries all over the world have focused on this new question. Some call it the Frankenstein complex because they believe the attention to this question is based on fear; those part of this school of thought are also subject to the idea that mechae are superior and that once humanity realizes this, we shall go to war with mecha to eradicate them. But we simply want to find the answer to this question; the interpretations that will form following our data, while interesting no doubt, is of minor concern to our organization. There wi/...

... ... ... ... ... ...i ...

#%:; _/ubjects were obtained three (3) months after birth, raised on-site, attended school on-site, and separation based on gender began at Year Three (3), age ten (10). At Year Five (5), age eleven (11), specialized training began. At Year Seven (7), age thirteen (13), the trials began. Subjects were no older than nineteen (19) during the trials. Subjects were never allowed outside the compound; subjects never wondered outside the compound. Subjects varied in physical prowess, though they were all superior to the average human. The mechae, therefore, were also chosen from the highest quality producers.

Our third variable, cyborgs, were composed from the highest performing mecha and human.

Some consider these actions cruel, but those critics do not have the future of humanity in their minds or their mother country in their hearts. Still, subjects seemed over all content with their lives; we have only three (3) suicides to repor/...  
... ... ... ... ... ... ...

#%:; _/ourse, this is the "space race" of this century, and it is of vital importance that Japan leads in the sciences. These were our goals, and we will triumph over the competitors. May the Sun always shine on the Ja/p ..(!)anese Empir-`°#e.  
/error:; unable to maintain secure connection:;/  
/disconnecting... disconnecting... DISCONNECTED/


	2. Introduction

"_When I look into this crowd of young adults,__"_a non-descript official said to a room full of children_, __"__I see the future of the Empire of Japan resting on your shoulders. Now, some organizations would criticize this aspect, saying that the burden is too much for a people so young. But that is where they are wrong; that is where these heretics are trying to infiltrate your mind__…_"

The doctor was emoting at killing machines. The children, for their part, were trying to not fidget, and keep up the appearance of listening. They were set up in rows, with spacing set aside for a walkway in the middle and on each side.

Behind Sena, some boys whispered to each other and snickered quietly.

"_To fill it with lies and doubts__…_"

Then he felt a brushing on his collar, against his neck, and a warm thing plopped down the back of his shirt.

"_So that you do not fulfill your glorious design_."

Sena lurched forward with a cry of disgust, and scrabbled at his back as the warm thing wriggled down his tucked shirt. Behind him, the three boys were trying their best to stay composed, their faces red with sustained laughter.

"_So that you become hesitant to accept your duties, so that__…__ What is going on_?" The doctor peered over the podium.

Sena was in hysterics, trying to get whatever warm thing was touching him off, yelping in the process.

"Sena," Anazeki whispered, trying to settle him down and glaring at the nearby murmuring students. She saw some of the guards approaching, so she took in a deep breath and slapped the wriggling thing against Sena's back. The warm thing stopped moving. Sena was shaking slightly. The boys behind him stopped snickering.

"What is the situation?" a guard demanded.

"Eh," Anazeki said. "He was being b-"

"The speeches get to me," Sena said quietly, downcast. "I can't contain myself."

"Rightly so, but you need to be orderly. No more interruptions."

"Understood," Sena said. He could feel the small thing oozing into his shirt and against his skin.

As the doctor continued his speech, he heard some murmurs come from behind him.

"—he'll never make it in the trials…"

"_The magnificent Empire of Japan is fortified with the strength of the youth.__"_

"… Pathetic, tch."

"_You are the future. The Empire is cutting no luxury keeping you here, so that you might enhance our knowledge_."

"—wasting time and money having him here."

"_To the glory of the Empire of Japan. Declare you__'__re loyalty._"

"We are at the Empire's disposal; nothing would bring us greater joy than to serve our country," the students said back, Sena's soft voice joining the chorus.

"Age tens," a caretaker said, the assembly now over, beckoning some of the students to form a line behind him. Anazeki gave Sena's shoulder a quick squeeze before following the man.

"Age twelves?"

"Elevens, over here, please."

"Age nines, follow me."

Sena followed after the caretaker, conscious of the stares he was getting. He ignored them the best he could, and followed the caretaker, towards the back of the line. The hallway was filled with the clacks of their shoes hitting aluminum tiling as the other children walked along mostly single-file to medical ward for checkups. Fluorescent lights clung to the low ceiling, droning quietly.

He heard another snicker behind him.

"You shit your pants?"

Sena kept looking forward, tunnel vision. The thing in the back of his shirt felt heavy; he felt feint.

"Yo, shorty, don't ignore me," the same boy hissed. "Watch out in comps, loser."

They rounded another corner, and the medical unit was in sight. Above the double-door entrance was a simple placard that read "Medical Wing". There were already orderlies ushering the other children inside for their daily examination. Sena kept his back against the wall until it was his turn.

"E021?" an orderly called out, not looking up from his clipboard. Sena scuttled to him. "And how are you doing today?" the orderly asked, voice detached due to monotony.

"Fine, I guess… some of the others aren't too… nice… to me." They walked past the double doors, and into the white medical room. The room was large and open, with bright fluorescent fixtures bleaching everything of color. They passed row after row of other children having their temperature taken or their eyes checked.

"Ah is that so? Well, no matter," they stopped in front of an office with a frosted window on the door. "In you go."

This had never happened before.

"I thought that I was just getting a ch-checkup?"

A man walked out from the office. He was wearing a white lab coat over a button down and slacks, his hair a dark mess. He looked very young. "If you're E021, then get in already."

Sena entered, sending a weary look at the orderly one last time. There was no bed for checkups, no eye chart, no medical posters on the walls, just two chairs, a desk, and shelfs with books. The doctor closed the door behind him.

"What," said the doctor, "is on the back of your shirt?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?" There was no hint of kindness in his words like with the other caretakers, just some detached professional tone. Sena had never even seen this doctor before. He ducked his head and scrunched up his hands in his shirt.

"Who are you?" Sena asked, his voice barely above a squeak.

The doctor's green eyes pierced him behind his glasses. "Read the name tag, it's there for a reason."

'Dr. Hiruma'.

"Oh…"

"Now, your name?"

"Aren't supposed to know?" Sena clasped his hands over his mouth. He looked up, wide eyed, but Dr. Hiruma seemed to have found it funny judging by the faintest smirk on his face.

"What's that thing on your back, kid?" Dr. Hiruma asked once again, sitting down in one of the chairs, resting his ankle on his knee.

"Someone dropped something in my shirt. I don't know what it is."

"Come here."

Sena trudged to the doctor, hands still twisting together.

"Take off your shirt." Sena could tell the doctor was losing his patience. He started untucking his shirt when he felt something unstick from his skin and fall. He turned around and looked down. It was a squished lump, and its insides were leaking out. Its mouth was pointy and had been tied shut with some string. Its eyes, filmed over with grey, bulged out of its flattened head.

"What is that?" Sena cried out, pointing to the thing on the ground. His eyes pricked with tears. "What is it?"

Dr. Hiruma picked up the thing between two gloved fingers. "Who found this?"

"I d-don't remember… No one."

"Liars don't do well in the trials."

"What are you going to do to them? What is that? Dr. Hiruma? Is it dead?"

Dr. Hiruma looked at the thing in his hands for a moment longer before going to his desk and dropping the thing into an envelope. He took his gloves off with a snap.

"Take a seat in the chair, kid," Dr. Hiruma said, rifling through a stack of papers. Sipping from his cup, Dr. Hiruma turned back and sat across Sena. "What's your quality of sleep like?"

"But the… the dead thing—?"

"Would you say you're getting enough sleep?"

"Um… I guess so…"

For the next hour, Dr. Hiruma quizzed him on his life: if he was tired, if he ever felt sad for a long time, if had ever skipped meals.

They didn't talk about the dead thing until the very end where Dr. Hiruma got up from his chair to his desk and took out a large book from one of the shelfs lining the walls. He brought the book close for Sena to see.

"It was a bird," Dr. Hiruma said, voice expressionless, looking at Sena carefully behind his glasses. Sena traced the sketch of a bird with his small fingers.

"My bird doesn't look like that."

"It was a baby."

"Will it look like this when it gets big?"

"No. It's dead."

"I don't feel good," Sena said quietly.

Above him, Dr. Hiruma's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"You're not supposed."


End file.
